Complications
by Theadore Lenning
Summary: Boromir & Aragorn goodness for the soul! an amusingly sweet tale about my favourite fictional humans. With some inuendo if you look hard enogh, light humour with emotional chapters to come!
1. Slashy goodness for the soul

Rating: PG 15 (slashy implications and lots of slush No graphic scenes though!)  
Pairing:- Aragorn/Boromir  
  
Disclaimer: If these were mine, do you think I'd be writing bad fan fiction   
about them? HELL NO! Boromir would be alive and waiting for me   
in bed sipping an expensive beverage calling for me to come and  
....I will not be writing about that today! Tolkein is a peerless  
genius I cannot compete, Many do but still none succeed.!!  
  
Authors notes: Sorry if any Boromir or Aragorn fans (like myself) do not like  
the way I have portrayed them!! thanks to Charlotte (a LOTR heathen   
but good m8) and Kat for all their help and encouragement. And I also   
realise, Yes desolate clumps of trees do pop up unexpectedly in many  
fan fics But I don't think the fellowship would've appreciated the floor  
Show so help me to preserve innocent, virginal Hobbit eyes and give me  
a break!  
  
Feedback: Indulge me!! All flames will be fed to   
my pet dragon, Teabag!   
  
--------------------------Curtains Up---------------------------------  
  
Complications  
Part 1 Rivendell  
  
"Hope" an unusual name for a ranger, The Gondorian Lord circled Estel like a hawk if however his stance was more like that of a bear. Hunched shoulders and hands curled into fists hung loosely around his hilt. He came to rest on one hip a patronising and sarcastic expression on his face.  
  
"What hope can a ranger..." He spat out hope and curled his R's in ranger deliberately, not for the first time Aragorn wondered what it would be like to... the next words jilted him out of his happy fantasy and into a world of trouble, arrogant but beautiful men and a certain elf princess. " ... Bring to a dying country?"  
  
Estel had not realised Boromir had circled him again and was leaning his proud square jaw on his gaunt shoulder, Boromirs head slumped a little letting the shorter strands of his hair lap over the rangers black clad collarbone. Estel didn't flinch he would not allow Boromir to know he was afraid of the violence his physique and voice betrayed. He wanted to leave but wouldn't allow himself that either, so he walked away after a few moments of tense silence.  
  
Part 2 Hollin  
  
" I see now what hope you might offer but it is one neither my Father or I might accept"   
  
Aragorn continued to sharpen his sword as he sat cross-legged on the rock. His strokes were long, steady and equal but his rhythm went out of sync as Boromir spoke.   
  
"What great conversationalists we are" The southerner commented, Trying to draw a response out of Aragorn, That it did. The thick Gondorian accent awoke from the glazed reverie he entered while the did this repetitive task.   
  
"I am not trying to make conversation Boromir, Though if hearing your own voice soothes you as it seems to. Carry on."  
  
Aragorns barbed reply seemed only to spur Boromir into further talking about Gondor, so Aragorn cut him off before he started. He didn't want to discuss these things, not tonight.  
  
"If Boromir you not put your full determination into this quest, we WILL fail and Gondor will be lost to shadow before either of us can save it."  
  
" I can hardly forget about my people, Aragorn as you can evidently. It is for them I am on this miserable suicide march if only..." Aragorn cut him off again,  
  
"I will Not debate this with you Boromir"   
  
Their walking had taken them into a desolate clump of trees, how fortunate. Boromir noticed just how blue Aragorns eyes were, Stunning was the only word to describe him. He decided to take the chance,  
  
"Alone in the woods with a man I hardly know the name, or many names of. Other eyes might regard this as suspicious" Boromir flirted giving Aragorn a provocative pout.  
  
"Other eyes are not here" He could've sworn Aragorn was giving him the same fluttery eyelashes as his fan club back home.  
  
" So it would seem"  
  
"We should utilise the time alone" He wasn't hearing this from the jumped up ranger ...Was he? He was a very pretty jumped up Ranger, But he couldn't possibly mean, be suggesting ...Could he??  
  
"One should not mix politics with..."  
  
"Love?" Aragorn suggested   
  
"Who said anything about love?..." Boromir asked, quite obviously shocked, Aragorn almost laughed at the effect his half hearted flirting was having on Boromir, But he couldn't deny that he meant what he said to the Gondorian. His blush was so beautiful  
  
"....Warriors don't fall in love"  
  
"This one does"   
  
"So it would seem" mused Boromir as he lightly traced the filigree of the Evenstar with his little finger.  
  
"I mean not Arwen"  
  
There was a moment of hesitation and then.......... (Insert dirty imagination here)  
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Boromir started to put his undergarments* on   
  
"What are you doing Now!?!" Aragorn asked sleepily   
  
"Uh Going back to camp!"   
  
"Come back here! By order of the King! Lie down beside me and look at the stars"  
  
"Your not my....."  
  
"I know, I know I'm your lover. Just don't argue with me, no fighting, not tonight I haven't got the energy"Aragorn grinned dirtily.  
  
"I don't think I have enough energy either!" It was Boromirs turn to grin now as he sank down beside Aragorn.  
  
Aragorn took Boromirs hand and upturned it,  
  
"This is the Love line Life line and the uhh you have two"  
  
"That's a scar, I caught a sword by the blade not the hilt once."  
  
"Didn't think you had enough brains for two head lines" Aragorn jested earning himself a stony glare. To relieve the tension he tried another joke ,  
  
" Its not as if your head matters I only use you for your body" This time Boromir took it as a joke and embraced the other man each of them caring for each other more than they knew.   
  
"What does my love line say" Whispered Boromir huskily into Aragorns ear   
  
"Aragorn" Aragorn whispered back and sighed as his earlobe was pulled between Boromirs lips. Aragorn reached for his sword the nearest of the two and drew it along Boromirs love line leaving beads of poppy blood behind which Aragorn quickly soothed with his lips.   
  
  
Part 3 Moria  
  
Aragorn leaned forward to light his pipe from Gandalfs as he did the Evenstars pendant escaped its black confinements.  
  
"That is a beautiful gem, as is she."  
  
Aragorn absentmindedly stroked the pendant.  
  
"Its so intricately tangled, so beautifully complicated, 3 strands entwined... I only hope it does not reflect the feelings of the bearer." Gandalf chucked grimly, Aragorn blushed and began to protest.  
  
" Don't bother Estel I know that hue. Just don't fall too hard." This time it was Aragorns turn to laugh dryly he knew in his heart he was truly besotted with the Gondorian prince after a few more drags in silence he put away his pipe and went to walk to his bed roll but before he did he stooped beside Boromir and gently curled the sleepers lax fingers into the blankets and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear.  
  
Gandalf drew another drag from his pipe and blew a smoky heart in jest between the sleeping man and his adoring liege, Aragorn batted the smoke from his lovers nostrils as they flared and the bridge of his nose wrinkled, even in sleep with disgust. Aragorn remembered once Boromir had refused to kiss him after he had smoked because of the smell.   
  
Part 5 Lothlorien  
  
Aragorn walked away from Boromir, His last words to him echoeing in his head "The Lords of Gondor have reterned" , Fuck, Aragorn thought, he's really screwed up. He'd go back and check on him later, Aragorn wished he'd taken his sword though, just incase, for Boromirs sake more than the ringbearer acctually. He needed some time to form an eloquent, healing phrase. Even though he knew they would end up comunicating without words, or pants.  
  
Boromir was curled up in the foetal position, rocking back and forth hands over ears doing a mixture of sobs screams curses and singing. Obviously the job of keeping the voices Galadrial and Sauron out of his head was taking its toll on his lover. He had no eloquent words in responce to this, so he did the next best thing.  
  
Aragorn wrapped his arms and legs around the southener and possesivly nibbled his neck giving him a love bite.  
  
"You wanna make that into a smily face?" Was shaky responce from the face under the hair. Aragorn Had to laugh  
  
"Now don't move or I'll get the eyes wonky!"  
  
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I have no idea on how to do the highy emotion scene that goes here, Maybe I'll do it some day, maybe I won't. There are some good 'Aragorn very upset over Boromirs death' fan fics that will adequatly finish my little tale so go find one or email me some suggestions on how to make people feel like crying (Sean Bean dous that so well!).   
  
Thank you for reading this.   
Reveiw if you want, just click the little button and add some compliments to make me =oD   
Have a nice day!  
*ahem can you think of a better word for pants! 


	2. More slashy goodness for the soul

Rating: PG 13 for angst and mentions of past slashiness.   
  
Disclaimer: However Much I tried between last chapter and this, They're STILL not mine God dammit!!  
  
Authors notes: Thankyou for your comments, They were well founded and pleased me greatly . I have tried to take on board what you said for this chapter. I hope you like it and as always feedback is appreciated!  
  
This unlike the last chapter is not a parody of bad cliched slash. (although I suspect that this has more than a few clichés in it!   
  
Chapter 2   
Minas Tirith  
  
Aragorn knelt by the horn of Gondor, The pieces had been put on a plinth in a room made by Denathor like a shrine to his eldest son. His head was bowed and his slender back shuddered with the tears that racked his body. Images of Boromirs glazed eyes filled his head, His fingers still felt the release of the arrows as they dislodged from his chest, His nose could still smell the Orcs and his mouth could taste Boromirs blood as he kissed him for the last time.   
  
A hand lightly squeezed Aragorns shoulder.   
  
"Don't cry" A voice like Boromirs sounded loud as it reberverated around the chamber.  
  
"In the wise words of my ever sympathetic brother: Buck up come on they ain't worth crying over crying for farm maids!" Faramir chuckled, Aragorn smiled, He had to. An image of Moria formed itself in his head. Of Boromir refusing to submit to him beacause of the cold of the stone floor.  
  
"Here" Said Faramir offering his hand, It wasn't as calloused as B's " Let me take you somewhere"  
  
Faramir wasn't as rough looking as his brother. His eyes were smaller and softer his hair curlier a lot less rugged but equally beautiful.  
  
They neared a thick wooden door the tree of Gondor engraved in it. Aragorn ran his hand over the wood and felt Boromirs presence. Faramir pushed the door open. Boromir's chamber was impeccably tidy. He noticed some of the quirks he brought to the fellowship like folding his pygamas up neatly on his pillow and leaving his shoes at the end of the bed. And some of the habits Aragorn had never seen like storing socks on the end of the bedposts and keeping his weapons hung up on the wall.  
  
For that moment Boromir was alive again, His Boromir was alive again. Faramir smiled   
  
"Are you glad I brought you here?"  
"Yes. Thank you"  
"Would you like a moment alone?"  
"Please"  
  
Aragorn faced the window looking out at the peak of Mount Doom. The slam of the door told him Faramir had left. He walked slowly to the dressing table: a plain wooden affair only embellished, Like the rest of his furniture with the Gondorian tree inlaid with bright silver.  
  
He took the silver lids of the various flutes and jars and breathed in the heavy scent of his lover. He sat down at the rich wooden table made for two, on the carved chair where Boromirs various trysts must have started. He fingered the crystal glasses and mimicked toasting.  
  
He went back to the bed. A large red wood base, skilfully made spindles holding the white muslin drapes over the bed. A wooden headboard again with the mark of Gondor.  
He smiled at the thought of Boromirs partners as they rested on the headboard looking up at the tree and realised that even in bed, the most private of places the responsibility of Gondor overshadowed Boromir.   
  
The heavy linen covers still smelt of Boromir and the left pillow still held his hair. Aragorns hand stroked the gold locket holding a lock of Boromirs hair he now kept in the breast pocket of his clothes.   
  
Aragorn remembered whispered words from Boromir promising that he and Aragorn would do what they were enjoying then in this bed, it was just as Boromir had described. By then Aragorn would be beyond speech and would just smile, not the smile he was giving now, the smile he had now was a phantom, a reflection of the delirious smile he held when Boromir held him.   
  
His eyes were frozen on something far away, focusing on Boromirs spirit. Just like Boromir had promised Aragorn felt his presence after death, the feeling was stronger here like, Boromir was there like his arms were around him, His mouth on his, Hands slowly removing Aragorns tunic. Whispering promises and fealties of love. He wasn't sure after how long he had spent there, bathing in the feeling that Boromir was there again.   
  
When Faramir woke him up he wasn't ready to give up the connection with his fallen hero. When Faramir tapped him, waking him from meditation he felt the pain come back. The first words Faramir said washed over him not registering with him.   
  
The next thing he remembered was sitting in a chamber, a plainer chamber, lined with books and sitting there sobbing. Faramir was sitting next to him on the long bench.  
  
"Shhh come on ....by the valar just shut up! ....................okay maybe that wasn't the best thing to say. Please. I hate seeing you like this."  
  
His tears fell just as heavily as the night on Amon Hen until Faramirs lips brushed against the droplets of water on his cheeks.   
Faramir pushed Aragorn backwards until he was spread out on the bench almost straddled by the red head.  
  
Faramirs poetic fingers tilted Aragorns head till his neck was exposed and Faramir gently began to kiss it just below the earlobe that Faramirs moustache was tickling. Aragorn closed his eyes and pretended he was with Faramirs brother.  
  
"Boromir" Aragorn hissed without meaning to.   
  
Faramirs whole body tensed and withdrew from Aragorn who whimpered at the loss of the body so acheingly similar to his dead lovers. He had to go he knew instinctively that he had hurt Faramir and he didn't want to be there to hear it in his voice as well, so he ran.  
  
He sped up the spiralled layers of the white city until he reached the peak of the walls surrounding the tip protecting 'his' castle. His feet teetered on the edge, the ground was so tempting. 


End file.
